The Vampire Stas
by Jadamelancholy
Summary: This is the life story of an 18th Century Vampire named Stas, from the time he was turned, all the way through this 300 some years of existence.
1. Chapter 1 Introduction

The Vampire Stas

All characters © xsweetxpandemoniumx

Chapter 1 – Introduction

_Paris, France - 1734_

Anastas Donnagan Delacroix, a very young and attractive and very successful French businessman, was just finishing locking up his offices around the hour of nine that cold December night. The offices had once belonged to his wealthy father, who had passed away when Anastas was fourteen, leaving just the boy and his mother. They had come to belong to Anastas, now known by the business partners simply as "Stas," soon thereafter, along with the townhouse where Stas now lived and the family estate in the western countryside, where his mother presently resided with a few servants.

Young Stas' steadfast dedication to his work was admired by his peers, but somewhat loathed by the young women who sought to garner his attention in hopes of one day becoming his wife. His long hours spent balancing ledgers were what allowed him to maintain two large homes, upkeep his impeccable fashion sense, and keep his mind off of other things he'd rather forget. The latter is the most important. Stas cared nothing for the pretty French women who constantly tried to flirt with him at social events and Sunday Mass. To him they were all the same – unintelligent vultures, devoid of passion, and only seeking the comforts his money and social status could bring them. Further, his dedication was to his father. There were two things his deceased father had wanted for his son: to take over the family business and to settle down with a family of his own.

Stas was indeed doing well with the business, but settling down was not something he was interested in. He knew he could never be happy with these socialite women whom his mother and peers kept suggesting he court. He wanted something real – something he was beginning to think he would not find during his lifetime in France. Women were not free thinkers at that time. They were not supposed to be. Stas knew it was socially unacceptable for someone of his status to want such a thing in a woman – someone who would think freely, and challenge him, and simply make him feel alive, but that was what he truly desired. He had made up his mind at a young age that he would never marry someone who could not give him these things – even if that meant risking his family's disapproval. He soon learned that if he buried himself with work, his relatives would not have the time to ask about his relationship status. In fact, they proved to be more curious about his newest business endeavors, which he made certain, consumed all of his time.

This night was one of many he had spent hovered over his office desk until the ink on his documents blended so perfectly with the shadows cast by the dying candle flame that his eyes could no longer tell the difference. Stas had been so consumed by his thoughts as he worked that he had lost all concept of time. Not that it mattered. He lived alone. He was free to come and go as he pleased and the extra money earned by long office hours allowed him to ensure that his mother continued to live comfortably in the countryside.

He left alone this night, as usual, and walked silently down the empty Paris streets towards his large town home. He remained deep in thought as he walked, creating a mental list of duties to be completed the next day. It wasn't until he turned down a particularly dark street a mere four blocks from his home that he realized he was being followed.

He could hear footsteps mimicking his own, but always staying at least four meters behind him. Stas whirled around suddenly, hoping to intimidate his follower, but what he saw when he turned was – nothing. No one was there. Just an empty street and cold, damp cobblestone. Stas felt a shiver run down his spine as his eyes scanned the horizon.

"_Perhaps all I heard was the echo of my own footsteps resounding off the buildings,"_ he told himself.

Stas exhaled an unsteady stream of breath in an attempt to calm himself down as he slowly turned to continue on his pathway home. What happened next would forever be a blur in the young man's mind.

He turned around and came face-to-face with another man – a man who's face was as pale as the moon, who's hair was a dark as the midnight sky, and who's dark eyes burned like embers in the scarce light of the alley. Stas barely had time to gasp before the well-dressed stranger clasp a hand tightly over his mouth and drug him further into the shadows of the alley.

Stas was suddenly afraid for his very life. He tried to fight this ghastly stranger, but the man restrained him with little effort. It was at that moment that Stas began to grasp the slightest idea of what was about to happen to him. This man was no man at all. His strength was inhuman and those eyes – those eyes that seemed to burn and freeze all matter at the same time – if Stas had not been so afraid he might have found them beautiful. They were vampire eyes. He began to realize that he was meant to die that night, in that dingy alley so very close to the safety of his home.

The next sensation he endured was the feeling of his head being tilted back towards the night sky and the horrible pain of two razor sharp teeth piercing his flesh. He tried to cry out but couldn't. All he could do was make horrible gurgling and sputtering sounds as the blood was drained from his body. His heart beat rapidly until he thought it might explode, but then slowed. It slowed much too quickly and he felt his entire body become a dense weight as his vision swam and his breath grew short. A wrist was then shoved to his lips. It was pale, almost gray, but beginning to glow a subtle pink. It bore two puncture wounds identical to the ones on his neck and blood was beginning to flow from the two holes.

"Drink," the pale stranger commanded.

Stas had no more strength left to fight or to even think. He obeyed, drinking the sickly sweet liquid from the stranger's veins, which he would later learn was not only the blood of the stranger, but also his own blood flowing through the other's veins.

As he drank, feeling began to return to his limbs and he felt his heart beat again. He could hear it pounding in his head. The more he drank, the louder the pounding became and his chest began to ache again. Suddenly he was feeling dizzy and nauseous, much worse than he had felt minutes ago.

"No more," he muttered to the stranger.

The creature retracted his wrist and began to drag Stas away, to some unknown destination.

"Where are you taking me?" Stas murmured. He was in intense pain now, as though his insides were on fire and he would be sick at any moment. His vision was failing him. He could barely make out the blur of the street lamps against the sky and the shapes of the passing buildings as he was now carried over the shoulder of this extraordinarily strong being. He felt like death, and he could not understand the man's actions in the alley. The confusion was making his already weakened mind crumble into dust.

"Am I to die this night?" He asked his captor weakly. His words hardly sounded like more than infantile utterances now. However, his captor's heightened senses were still able to make out their meaning.

Having reached their destination, which from the few senses Stas still had functioning he guessed to be a stately house located quite some ways from where their journey had begun, the mysterious man laid Stas down in a type of bed and looked into the young man's pained eyes.

"No fledgling, you will not die this night," said the man in response to the question posed previously, "but when you awaken, you will no longer be among the living."

Stas grunted in response, no longer able to form the syllables necessary for speech. There was a scraping noise against the floor near Stas' feet and then it seemed to Stas that he was being sealed in. With the last strand of logic left in his brain, Stas realized that the bed he was in was in fact a coffin and that his pale attacker was placing the lid back on it with Stas laying helpless inside.

Stas panicked at the thought of being shut in the dark box. He groaned and tried to summon the strength to get out or lift the lid, but it wasn't in him and he soon found himself in total darkness. There were more scraping noises outside the box and then there was total silence.

As Stas lay there trying feebly just to breath, the man's words echoed through his mind, _"No fledgling, you will not die this night…"_

"_He plans to make me into a vampire like himself,"_ Stas thought.

He breathed in again, shutting his eyes tight against the pain of fire consuming his lungs. The darkness of the coffin pressed down on his mind, enticing in him a deep desire to sleep and to make the pain forgettable. The last thought in Stas' mind before submitting to unconsciousness was "_Why?"_


	2. Chapter 2 Questioning

Chapter 2 – Questioning

When Stas awoke the next night, the pain was gone, but he was horribly weak. He lay inside his coffin for quite some time, just trying to muster the strength to lift his arms and feel the coffin lid. At last, with a grunt, he managed to lift his arms and push weakly against the top of his wooden tomb. It didn't budge and he quickly gave up the effort, waiting in dark silence for his abductor to free him.

To Stas, it felt like an eternity before he heard the muffled movements of the other vampire and his coffin lid was at last pulled open. Stas momentarily closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet sent of fresh air as he was at last exposed to the world outside his wooden box. However, that moment was soon ruined when the smell of fresh death permeated his senses.

Stas nearly gagged because of the smell. His eyes shot open again and a look of disgust crossed his face as a freshly dead rat was thrust upon his chest.

"You're weak. Eat," The other vampire ordered.

Stas pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning back against one of the smooth walls of his coffin. The look of disgust never left his face as he stared at the dead rodent.

"I can't eat this," he said weakly and hoarsely.

"You'll eat what I give you," was the other's reply, "drink the blood or you'll die before sunrise."

Stas looked at the rat hesitantly and at his captor with a look of scorn. Ultimately, he drank the blood of the rat. It wasn't as bad as he had expected, he just had to close his eyes and make believe it was some sort of delicacy.

Once he had finished his meal, Stas turned his eyes back to the other vampire, who had been standing in front of a fire place about 5 feet away from Stas, watching the logs burn and turn to ash. He had his back to Stas, yet the young vampire had no doubt the other could sense his eyes on him. It frustrated Stas that vampire man refused to acknowledge him.

"Who are you?" Stas finally asked. His strength returning a little bit, he climbed out of the coffin and stood facing the older vampire's back.

"My name is Jurek," the elder answered in a slow, even tone.

He wasn't really old, per se, but he still looked older than Stas. Jurek looked like he had probably been turned into a vampire around age 35, but his faced showed the concerns of one who had walked the earth for over a century, silently enduring all the trials and the tribulations of both the morals and the vampires.

"Why have you done this to me?" Stas demanded. His ice blue eyes burned with impatience and indignation.

"I did it to save you," Jurek replied in the same indifferent tone as before.

"Save me from what? I was in no danger!"

Jurek finally turned to face the young vampire, smiling at the fire burning behind his angry eyes.

"I saved you from death," Jurek answered smoothly, "because of me you are free from life's pain and suffering. You will live forever."

"You mean I will live forever in the freedom of death's pain and suffering! I don't believe you! Vampires seek only to destroy, not to save the lives of mortals they don't even know!" Stas took a few angry steps toward Jurek. " Tell me the truth, why have you done this to me?"

Jurek laughed at Stas' rage and turned his back to the young vampire once more, this time walking to a window on the wall opposite their coffins.

"You are mistaken, young Anastas. Vampires do not seek only to destroy. In fact we take great pleasure in creating. And make no mistake – you are not some random mortal. I've been watching you for quite some time now and you are exactly what I've been looking for. I saved you out of love."

Stas was taken aback and confused by Jurek's words. All they did was create even more questions for the young vampire.

"You're been watching me? You saved me out of love? That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard! I ask you, are you mad?"

Jurek laughed quietly from his place at the window. His soft laugher only served to anger young Stas more.

"Why do you mock me?" Stas fumed, "First you take me against me will and turn me into this monster! Then you deny my right to know why and laugh at my misfortune! What kind of cruelty is this?"

Jurek laughed again, a bit louder this time, and turned to address Stas.

"So full of questions!" Jurek exclaimed, his voice showing character for the first time that night. "That's precisely what I liked about you, young Stas. You were always so inquisitive and so passionate! You are an intelligent young man and so full of energy, much unlike other mortals these days. And unfortunately very much unlike most vampires these days."

Stas remained silent this time, waiting for Jurek to continue.

"You see the life of a vampire can be a very lonely one. I've traveled the world over the course of two hundred years, Stas. I've seen everything there is to see. I've seen hundreds of other vampires, but none of them have what I seek – drive, energy, true wisdom. They have all become so stuffy – so full of themselves and their immortal wisdom! I yearn for adventure, excitement, passion! I've searched the world over, and still the only place I can find these things is in youthful mortality."

Stas was beginning to understand what the older vampire was getting at.

"And you saw these things in me?" Stas asked.

"Yes," Jurek replied, "Why do you think you are such a successful businessman at such a young age? You are driven to wealth! You are passionate about your trade! Old age has not yet stunted your enthusiasm. And it never will. I have immortalized your youth."

"Physically," Stas muttered, "but mentally I already feel ages older."

"You're just weak! You've eaten but one measly rat tonight!" Jurek laughed, coming to Stas and clapping him playfully on the back, "Come, I will find you a life form worthy of feasting upon."

Stas was highly irritated by the other vampire's mannerisms. He was also irritated at Jurek's rationalizing of his situation. However, in trying to be rational himself, Stas realized that there was nothing he could do to undo what had been done to him, and that he had better start to see the advantages of being a vampire, lest he drive himself mad with resentment and self-pity.

Stas followed Jurek out into the night. The elder vampire turned once to see if the younger was following him and Stas was once again awe-struck by the way the older and taller vampire's gray eyes glistened in the moonlight. He was also mesmerized by the way Jurek's pale skin seemed to glow under the moonlight. Stas held out his hand in front of his face to see that his skin too possessed a seemingly ethereal glow in the darkness.

When the two vampires came to a stop they were some where in the slums of inner Paris. Jurek motioned for Stas to be silent as they crept through the shadows. Stas followed Jurek to a small wooden house where a fire burned dimly inside. Jurek nodded his head toward the window, indicating that he wanted Stas to look inside.

Stas looked through the dirty glass into the common room of the two-room home. There a middle-aged woman sat alone in an old rocking chair, knitting a blanket. Stas looked back to Jurek to see the vampire was grinning at him, a certain glint in his eyes. It then became apparent to Stas was Jurek meant for him to do.

"No," Stas said, shaking his head in frightened disgust, "I can't. I won't."

"You must," Jurek told him, "you need the energy."

"No," Stas said again, "I cannot kill an innocent woman! Let me feast upon rats and dogs!"

"Rats and dogs," Jurek spoke the words bitterly, as if they had been of insult to him. "And don't be so pleasant…innocent woman…please! This woman is a widow, living in the poverty and disease of this slum! Look at her! She has nothing to live for."

"I won't do it," Stas repeated, "and you'll be damned if you do!"

Jurek snickered at Stas' remark and said, "Haven't you noticed? I'm already damned. That's what you mortals call us, isn't it? The damned ones? The devil's children? If that is truth, then what does it matter whether I kill an old woman or not?"

Stas didn't answer. He stood glaring at Jurek, having lost all respect he had just begun to gain for his elder vampire master. Jurek snarled at Stas in disgust, seeing his compassion for the living as weakness.

"Go find your rats and dogs to fest upon, then," Jurek hissed, "I will be here when you return."

Stas started to turn to leave, when out of his peripheral vision he saw Jurek make a dash for the widow's door. Jurek was inside before Stas could even shout his protest, let alone make any physical efforts to stop him. Through the small window Stas could see Jurek sink his teeth into the woman's soft flesh. In his rage, Jurek was much more rough than he had been with Stas. He was making an awful mess of the woman's neck as he drained her blood.

Stas turned away from the window quickly, feeling sickened and cold. A few moments later, he heard Jurek's footsteps on the dirt outside the woman's house. He turned his gaze upon the elder. Fresh blood still coated Jurek's lips and dripped down his front. His gray eyes were ablaze both with resentment towards Stas and with the natural energy that came from drinking the blood of a mortal.

"You are a child of the devil!" Stas said coldly to Jurek, "and to the devil you will return!"

Stas turned and ran from his vampire master, but Jurek's superhuman speed allowed him to catch the young vampire with little effort. Stas struggled against the bonds of Jurek's arms to no avail.

"Let go of me, fiend!"

"Calm yourself, young Stas!" Jurek kept his hold on the smaller vampire. "You haven't the strength or the knowledge yet to survive in the world as a vampire!"

Stas continued to struggle for a few more seconds before collapsing to his knees in exhaustion.

"I could not do what you did to that woman," he panted.

"You will be surprised with what you can do – what you will do – to survive," Jurek answered him. "Perhaps I overestimated you. I should have started by taking you to the prison, with your affinity for justice. Would you have refused me so passionately if I had asked you to take he life of a thief or a murderer?"

Stas didn't answer. He remained on his knees, his expression pained from mental agony as well as from exhaustion.

"Come," Jurek spoke again, "let us find your stupid dogs. You'll need the strength. I know a kennel not far from here."

All characters © xsweetxpandemoniumx

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